


Hot to the Touch

by iamtheenemy (Steph)



Series: An Angelic Disposition [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a good boyfriend, Crying Crowley (Good Omens), Edging, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Control, Wish Fulfillment, so much sex, way more feelings than you'd think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph/pseuds/iamtheenemy
Summary: I decided to expand on this throwaway line from An Angelic Disposition:If he wanted to, Aziraphale could get Crowley ready for his cock in minutes. But on nights like this, he drew it out past all sanity and forced Crowley to feel every excruciatingly slow twist of his fingers, in and out, over and over again.Crowley had confessed how much he’d wanted this very thing from Aziraphale years back, after far too much wine. Aziraphale had listened to Crowley’s drunken yammering, a look of interest and contemplation on his face, before standing up and removing his coat.The four hours that had followed ranked among the best and most frustrating of Crowley’s life.It is sex and begging and feelings and hand jobs and that's it. That's the story.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: An Angelic Disposition [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552345
Comments: 22
Kudos: 530
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	Hot to the Touch

Crowley didn’t think starting on his fourth bottle of wine of the night was a good idea -- he thought it was a bloody _great_ idea. It was snowing outside, the kind of large, idyllic flakes that could only be down to Aziraphale’s influence. But inside the shop, which has been closed most of the day, it was warm and comfortable. 

Crowley was spread out on the couch, his preferred position, his feet crossed at the ankles. At some point, he’d taken off his boots, though he couldn’t remember if he’d done it manually or miracled them away. Aziraphale, for his part, had chosen hot cocoa with marshmallows over alcohol to complement the evening. He was pouring over some dusty old book, and was hardly paying Crowley any attention, engrossed as he was in some stuffy, Gothic poetry or what have you.

Crowley didn’t let that stop his drunken yammering. He’d given up on his cup hours ago and was swigging wine straight from the bottle.

“So I said to them, I said, ‘Go ahead, make my day.’” 

One of the advantages of choosing to spend eternity with someone who didn’t give a toss about popular culture was that it made Crowley’s stories far more entertaining.

“Did you, dear?” Aziraphale murmured without looking up.

“Too right I did,” Crowley lied. 

Aziraphale turned the page of his book, and Crowley sighed as he watched the careful movement. 

“I love your hands,” he said, unable to take his heavy-lidded eyes off of them now that he’d noticed.

“I am well aware,” Aziraphale answered, still reading.

Crowley took another long sip of his wine and let one leg drop to the floor with a muted thump to give his suddenly interested cock more room. He brought the hand not holding the bottle down and gave it an indulgent tug inside his trousers, making his mouth drop open slightly.

“Love the way you touch me. Love your hands around my cock, love them inside me. Love it so…” Crowley’s eyes fluttered shut and he rubbed the heel of his own hand harder into his trapped erection. He thought idly about getting rid of his trousers, but that seemed like too much effort in the moment, comfortable as he was from wine and this pleasant arousal.

Aziraphale said nothing in response, absorbed as he was in his reading, but Crowley heard the flipping of another page and that only served to turn the crank harder.

Crowley let out a shaky moan and said, “Sometimes I imagine you doing it for hours, unrelentingly, like the bastard we both know you are.” 

It was one of Crowley’s favourite fantasies, one that far pre-dated the two months since the two of them saved the world and then got their acts together. In fact, it pre-dated the fall of Rome.

His hips were moving now, shifting and pushing up into the heel of his hand as he moved. 

“Until I’m begging,” Crowley said, letting himself get lost in the familiar image. “Until I’m crying.”

“Do you get to come?”

Crowley’s eyes sprang open. He _knew_ that tone of voice. It was the voice Aziraphale used when he’d just discovered something that would take Crowley apart. Crowley lifted his head to see Aziraphale staring at him, book entirely forgotten, gaze hot. He went abruptly sober, all the fuzzy drunkenness replaced by hot, curling anticipation in his stomach.

“Umm…” Crowley tried, but just as quickly as the words had come pouring out of his mouth, they dried up in the face of Aziraphale’s attention.

“Do you get to come, or do I leave you like that?” Aziraphale asked again.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley choked out, his hand still working.

Aziraphale stood up and walked around his desk. He began to remove his coat, each new button undone with careful deliberation.

“Tell me,” he said, as he shrugged off the coat and moved onto his vest.

“Yes,” Crowley said. “You let me come.” He was so close already, his foot braced on the couch cushion to give him leverage as his hips snapped.

Vest removed, Aziraphale moved his focus to his shirt cuffs, unbuttoning them and folding the sleeves up past his elbows.

“You aren’t taking that off?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale sat down with his perfect posture on the couch next to where Crowley was spread out. He shook his head. “Don’t think I’ll have to just yet.” Then he reached out and ran one hand down the inside of Crowley’s thigh, and Crowley was done for. 

With a gasp, he came inside his trousers, cock pulsing against the constricting fabric. Aziraphale rubbed slow, soothing circles along Crowley’s leg as he rode out his orgasm. When he could breathe again, Crowley was entirely sober and his glasses were slipping down his nose.

“There you are,” Aziraphale said with a bright grin. “It’s probably good that you got that out of the way first. It’s going to be a long night for you, I’m afraid. Shall we take this to the bed?”

Crowley, for the first time in millenia, thanked God for not saddling them with the same refractory periods as humans. Then between one blink and the next, he was in the bed on the second floor of the shop that Aziraphale had added in for just this purpose. He was also completely naked.

“Cheeky,” Crowley said, looking down at himself.

“Efficient,” Aziraphale corrected. “Now, dear, can I trust you not to move if I tell you to, or would you prefer I tied you up?”

Between his legs, Crowley’s cock gave a twitch, already reawakening, and his heart - which didn’t even _need_ to beat - began slamming against his chest.

“I...I don’t…” Crowley gave up trying to put words to his feelings, which, in brief, came down to _anything, everything, all of that, let’s do it all_.

Thankfully, Aziraphale had plenty of experience interpreting Crowley’s lovestruck desperation over the past several months. He hummed quietly and said, “Let’s say we leave that for another time and you just lay still for me.”

Crowley surged up and pulled Aziraphale into a kiss, immediately defying his rules. Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind, though, if the smile against Crowley’s lips was any indication. After a moment they parted and Aziraphale, still grinning softly, pressed his hand to Crowley’s bare chest, pushing him down onto the mattress.

“Stay there, you demon,” he said. Then he snapped his fingers and a small mirror, no larger than a match case, appeared in Aziraphale’s hand. It glowed a vibrant green. 

“What is that?” Crowley asked, pushing up on his elbows to see.

“Ahh,” Aziraphale said, and now he looked a bit embarrassed, pale cheeks pinking slightly. “I’m afraid I’m cheating a bit. It’s just to keep track of how you’re feeling. Not specifics, of course. But generally. You see, I only want to do things you’ll enjoy. If there’s a problem, it changes colour. Rather ingenious, if I do say so myself. Do you mind?”

Crowley snatched it out of Aziraphale’s hand and tossed it on the comforter next to them. 

“No, I don’t bloody mind,” Crowley grumbled, already impatient.

“Oh my,” Aziraphale tutted. “If this is how you are now, then the next few hours will be difficult indeed.”

Crowley’s tongue peeked out to moisten his dry lips. “Hours…” he repeated, feeling his cock jump. 

Aziraphale didn’t answer. Instead, he cupped his hands around Crowley’s jaw and rubbed his thumbs along Crowley’s cheekbones.

“What a picture you are,” Aziraphale said on a sigh that sounded utterly content. “How lovely.”

“Angel,” Crowley choked out, his eyes fluttering shut. Over the last several thousand years, he had never thought to include in his fantasies this quiet, earnest praise from Aziraphale. The way his eyes would roam over Crowley as if he were a gift or the last raspberry tart on the dessert plate. As if Aziraphale wanted to savor him. It was intoxicating and something he never could have predicted. And if he had predicted it, something he never would have guessed he’d enjoy. 

And yet…

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale said. “I’m happy to do this for you. I’m happy to do anything for you. You’ve earned it, haven’t you? After taking care of me for so long.” 

Aziraphale’s hands left his face and trailed down Crowley’s neck, his shoulders, his collarbone, down to his chest. A fingernail caught on Crowley’s right nipple, dragging a long groan out of him. He pushed himself up on his elbows to watch Aziraphale’s wide hands continue their slow path down his chest to his stomach. 

Aziraphale scratched at the hair around his hardening cock and Crowley felt the muscles there tremble at the sensation. 

“Not quite ready again yet, I see,” Aziraphale said, as he took Crowley’s half-hard erection into his hand. “Let’s take care of that.”

As Crowley watched, Aziraphale gave his cock two long, decadent strokes before running both of his thumbs up the length of it to the sensitive area just below the head.

“Just here, isn’t it?” Aziraphale asked, as if he somehow couldn’t remember how he’d brought Crowley off the night before. 

Crowley’s only answer was to let his arms fall flat on the bed and his head hit the pillow. He didn’t need words anyway, since the thick rivulet of pre-come and his fully erect cock were probably answers enough.

“Thank you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “This is much better when it’s wet, as I’m sure you know.” He spread the pre-come down Crowley’s cock and resumed his stroking. 

It was pleasant and satisfying, though too slow to bring him to orgasm. Crowley closed his eyes and relaxed his limbs, feeling his jaw go slack as he let himself enjoy it. 

“I really do applaud this idea, Crowley,” Aziraphale said as his hands continued to work. “I could happily watch you like this all day.”

Crowley hummed in response, his toes curling and his legs widening to give Aziraphale better access. They stayed that way for he didn’t know how long, with Aziraphale switching hands occasionally, but otherwise silent, until that pleasant, floating feeling began to change into something more urgent. 

Crowley rocked his hips and Aziraphale obligingly tightened his fist and sped up his movements until Crowley could feel his climax building, and then Aziraphale took his hand away and leaned back, leaving Crowley bereft and stupidly aroused. 

He clapped his own thighs and declared, “Right then, that’s enough of that for a while.” To Crowley’s chagrin, the fastidious way he said it was enough to make Crowley’s cock pulse again, all on its own. It was so very _Aziraphale-like_ that Crowley’s brain was hard-wired to respond to it. Aziraphale continued in the same brisk, businesslike manner, “Now, I believe you said you wanted my fingers inside you.”

Crowley’s heels dug into the mattress, but still found it in him to peel his eyelids open and grit out, “I know what you’re doing.” 

“My dear, I’ll stop doing it when it stops working,” Aziraphale responded. “Now, do you think two fingers will do, or should we try three?” The words came along with the barest smirk, which widened when Crowley instinctively reached out for his own cock before remembering himself and grabbed a fistful of the blanket instead. “I suppose we can see how it goes.”

Aziraphale moved between Crowley’s spread legs, positioning them correctly. When he rubbed his fingers together they came away slick with miracled lubricant. 

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to one of Crowley’s bent knees and pushed one gentle finger inside of him. Crowley rocked back into it, enjoying the feeling as Aziraphale kissed his knee again and then down his thigh. His free hand was back on Crowley’s cock, but this time, instead of a firm grip, it was just the featherlight touch of Aziraphale’s prenaturally soft fingertips grazing the hot, sensitive skin.

“You’re extraordinary,” Aziraphale said in the awestruck way that only an angel - only _this_ angel - truly could, his breath ghosting ticklishly over the inside of Crowley’s thigh.

“Shut up,” Crowley said, the compliments suddenly too much.

“I won’t,” Aziraphale argued stubbornly. Crowley’s cock jumped and another long thread of pre-come dribbled out at Aziraphale’s refusal, making Crowley’s face burn. Aziraphale spread wetness with his fingertips while Crowley shut his eyes and Aziraphale just _kept fucking talking_. “I’m so lucky you waited for me. I’m terribly sorry you had to. I love you so much.”

And he timed it perfectly, the incredible bastard. _I love you so much._ And then his finger crooked in what he knew was exactly the right way, and his wet mouth captured the head of Crowley’s cock in its warm, perfect suction. And all of those things combined together to punch the breath out of Crowley’s useless lungs and make his back bow up helplessly, teetering so close to coming it made spots dance in front of his eyes.

A moment later, Aziraphale’s mouth was gone, and his finger twisted away again. When Crowley regained control of himself, he said, “That’s - not - fair.”

Aziraphale stretched forward to kiss him, sloppy in a way that his kisses rarely were. Crowley returned it desperately, grabbing Aziraphale’s stupid white hair in both hands and holding on. 

“I don’t recall there being any rules,” Aziraphale said when he’d pulled away. “And if one of them is that I can’t tell you that I love you, then I firmly object.”

“Just not while we’re like this,” Crowley said. “It’s ridiculous.” What he really meant was that it was overwhelming and made him feel like he was being cracked into a thousand pieces and made him _like_ it, and he was a _demon_ , bless it.

The only response Aziraphale gave to that was a pointed look at the device he’d conjured up earlier that was still traitorously glowing as vibrantly green as an evergreen tree. 

“I - oh, shut up would - ahh --”

The rest of Crowley’s stuttering was cut off on a moan when Aziraphale slid a second finger inside of him and began to gently stretch him. 

“Always so bloody stubborn,” Aziraphale grumbled as his other hand began to pick up speed on his slick cock.

Crowley choked again, this time for an entirely different reason. “ _I’m_ the stubborn one?”

“You’re a demon,” Aziraphale said. “Shouldn’t you _welcome_ pleasure?”

As if to prove his point, the fingers inside Crowley massaged that spot again, ruthlessly, with both fingers and without stopping. 

“Azir - Az - yessss,” Crowley hissed, hearing his voice go sibilant in his stupor. “Oh…”

“See? Isn’t that nice? Just enjoy it, Crowley. Go on. I want to make you feel good, do you understand? It’s the only thing I have planned for the rest of eternity, so you might as well get used to it.”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut on the tears he felt spring up. He shifted, his whole body lifting up and falling back down against his will. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” he mumbled, turning his face into his arm to hide his eyes.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Aziraphale said. “It’s almost a shame to make you turn around.”

“Wha…?” Crowley asked, and then cried out when Aziraphale’s hands both slowed to a stop.

“I can get a better angle if you turn around,” Aziraphale said.

“What?” Crowley asked again, his brain moving several beats slower than usual. 

“Hands and knees,” Aziraphale said and then helped reposition Crowley, whose whole body felt like it was made of jelly. “On second thought, the view from this way is nearly as lovely. Are you ready?”

Crowley grunted, his head dangling between his arms, as Aziraphale’s firm grip wrapped around his achingly hard cock leaking onto the bed sheets. Aziraphale’s palm was slippery and warm, and the glide of it over Crowley’s skin made his eyes roll back. He refused to acknowledge the sounds he was making, high and sharp and desperate.

Aziraphale placed kisses between Crowley’s shoulder blades and down his spine as his hand continued to work. 

“You want three fingers now, don’t you?” he asked.

Crowley nodded, past the point of shame. “Yes, please, yes.”

The angle _was_ better this way, and Aziraphale used that to his advantage, curling his fingers and making Crowley feel so good it was almost painful. 

The hand on his cock switched from those tight, wet pulls to focusing on that spot beneath the head again, which was somehow even more sensitive. Aziraphale rubbed circles over it, the kind of concentrated pleasure clearly designed to make Crowley lose control. 

He couldn’t bite back a sob as his knees buckled beneath him. Angelic intervention kept him in position, and Crowley trusted Aziraphale to hold him up while he rocked back into the pressure of the fingers inside him and then forward into the hand on his cock, tears rolling down his face and soaking the pillow.

“Ohh...oh my,” Aziraphale gasped from behind him. “The very best idea indeed.” 

“Please, Az’phale,” he slurred, voice thick. 

“That’s it,” Aziraphale coaxed. Crowley felt him lean up and over his back, and then his mouth touched Crowley’s ear, and he whispered, “I’m yours.”

With a cry, Crowley came. He strained into the hand on his cock, which was milking his orgasm out of him with tight precision. After an endless moment, all of the tension drained from Crowley’s body. He dropped down onto miraculously clean sheets and rolled over onto his back to look up at Aziraphale.

“For fuck’s sake,” Crowley grumbled, looking at Aziraphale still fully dressed. With a snap of his fingers, he took care of the problem. “Get down here.”

Aziraphale kissed Crowley like a dying man.

“Are you going to waste more time, or are you going to fuck me?” Crowley asked, and then grinned like a snake when Aziraphale stuttered above him.


End file.
